Page 3 of Mafia Kings & Wedding Rings
Pushing past her and the rest of my family, I stormed out one of the front double doors. The fresh air from the spring day hit me in the face, but the way I was fired up had me hot and yanking at the gray silk tie around my neck. I was a casual nigga to begin with. Catch me in some jeans or sweats. Immediately, I yanked at the tie and ripped off the navy blazer while stomping toward the black Hummer parked ahead.
The minute I landed, I was given everything any normal person would be scrambling and scraping for. I had a house for me and my children to stay in because I refused to move into this one, and a car to get me around. My kids and I lived simply in Chicago and I was never hurting for shit because I wasn’t frivolous or spending money on bullshit. When we pulled onto this estate and they saw the M emblem on the iron gate and the main house with horses running around on the open land, they were in awe. In that moment, I remembered how much I had shielded them from and questioned whether I made the right choice as we pulled up in front of the mansion.
“Stat, hol’ up.” Brick came jogging toward me as I moved toward the car and hit the fob to unlock it.
“Look, that nigga Ivo always held some type of resentment for you,” he said, shoulders sinking in defeat. “We both know that. I’m glad you here though. Shit feels right. Ivo is good at the business side of things, no lie, but you…” Brick shook his head. “You the nigga. Ain’t nobody forgot. Might need some reminding though. Everything Gran said, it’s real. Shit hot out here right now. I feel that shit everywhere I go. Niggas stay trying me too. That’s how the last couple of altercations happened and why I gotta clean up my image and stop going off like that. Basically… we need you. All of us. I ain’t trying to guilt trip you or none ofthat. A nigga just miss his big brother at the end of the day.” He held his hands up in surrender.
“Soft ass nigga,” I jested, yanking my car door open. “Right now, I’m just going to spend some time with the kids first. I heard you though, aight.” Extending my arm, we dapped each other up before a brief embrace. Climbing into the SUV, I took off down the driveway and down the winding road until I pulled in down a separate dirt road hidden behind trees.
The 6,800-square-foot traditional-style house came into view as I cruised the paved driveway and circled to one of the three garage doors that slid open for me when I approached. The two-story, six-bedroom, six-bathroom house was perfect and spacious for me and my children. It also came equipped with a pool and patio. My kids could do cartwheels for days in the big back yard, and I appreciated the space given our living situation a week ago. Needing a minute to myself, I pulled the blunt from the ashtray that I’d been blowing earlier and decided to finish it. I knew the minute we boarded that damn jet this trip was going to be different.
“What are you doing out here?” Cyra, my youngest son Rogue’s mama, lingered in the entry from the east side of the house.
She just so happened to be around when I got the news about my pops. I hadn’t shared a lot of my past with her or anybody in Chicago while I was there. I didn’t want nobody treating me differently because of who I was or my family name. Growing up in the Bluffs, I knew how muhfuckas moved when they knew you were caked up. When she learned that my family was responsible for Marek Reserve, you could practically see dollarsigns dancing in her eyes. The money we made pushing guns and dope was easily washable when we had several legit businesses to launder it through.
“Where the kids?” My buzz had kicked in as I eyed her in the little shorts and tank top she was rocking.
Dick stretching, I thought about her walls wrapped around it and squinted at her through the smoke.
“Upstairs on that damn Xbox,” she huffed. “They been up there for hours. Tavi came down for a snack run and ain’t been back since,” she cackled.
“Come here. Close the door,” I ordered in a low tone.
Simpering, she shook her head but did as she was told and padded toward me in a pair of Chanel slides. Her thick ginger curls were pulled up into a ponytail, but I admired how the color contrasted with her creamy, buttermilk skin. Propping the door open to the truck, I stroked my growing dick.
“Take those shorts off,” I told her, pulling my pants down far enough to free my man and strap up with the latex.
“Why you always gotta fuck up the mood with that?” Cyra sucked her teeth.
“You ain’t the one with four kids, mama. You want this dick or not?”
Rolling her eyes and sighing, she climbed into the truck to straddle me. With her hands against my shoulders, she eased her walls down my shaft slowly until I was deep inside her.
“Fuck!” I grunted, fingers digging into her plump ass while she bucked and threw it back on my shit.
She was putting in her best work, and her shit was wet as fuck. This release was much needed and wasn’t about shit else but a nut for me. After about thirty more strokes, she was dripping and gushing all over my shit at the same time I let my shit off in the condom.
“Mmm, damn,” she whined, moving her face closer to mine, trying to kiss my lips.
Giving her my cheek left her rearing her neck.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” she demanded, dropping her hands against her thighs while I pulled my flaccid dick out of her.
“This ain’t even that, Cyra, and you know it.”
“Then what the fuck is it?” she snapped, lifting her legs and climbing out of my lap and out of the car. “I’m here with you and your kids, and you acting like I’m just some random ass bitch, Static!”
Shaking my head, I fixed my pants and got out of the truck, slamming the door behind me. She was about to blow my high with this shit. Static was what they called me in the streets, and that was the part of me I gave Cyra when we were fucking around. I let her get it off because I didn’t want to be an open book for her. Ever since my first baby mama, I wasn’t giving bitches any leeway or access to my closed-off heart.
“I thought you wanted me here because we were trying to work on building something. Like a family.”
“You came because you didn’t have nowhere else to go, and I needed help with them while I was here dealing with my family shit. Don’t make this out to be some other shit you had in your head.”
“What am I supposed to do back in Chicago? How am I going to look when everybody finds out that you’re this nigga with all this money and I’m sitting back there in the projects with some dead-end job?”
“Shit didn’t matter to you before when I was just a regular nigga,” I pointed out with a shrug.
“This isn’t fair, Static!” As she stomped ahead of me, I couldn’t help but peep the deep sway in her hips when she moved.
